


No Matter What

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fourth Age, Pure shameless fluff, Romance, featuring Romantic!Faramir and Hormonal!Eowyn.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 13:18:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3769862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eowyn has a dreadful secret, and Faramir finds out. Warning: pure shameless fluff, featuring Romantic!Faramir and Hormonal!Eowyn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Matter What

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

_"Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love." Albert Einstein_  
  
Eowyn stared despairingly at the object of her torment, but it had no idea the trouble it was causing and could not respond. Feelings of weakness and embarrassment accompanied her whenever she thought of it, but still her whole mind would revolve around it. Resolving to give it up entirely, she turned away, vowing to forget its very existence.  
  
For thirty seconds she was successful, and then she remembered Faramir. He would be home very soon, and would be sure to ask about it, and what could she say? She could hide it, or throw it away, but that would most certainly be discovered. What could she do? Her maid could help her, but—and here her eyes filled with bitter tears—how much more worthless could that make her feel?  
  
She had thought that when Faramir had rescued her from her darkness, all would be well, and she would have no more worries. Ah, the blind optimism of love! There was not much she could do about this, though. It had been bound to be revealed sooner or later, and she should have thought of it before marrying him, and found some way to spare herself the scene that was sure to come. How he would look at her, with surprise and then pity, and how it would eat at her heart. He would surely feel disappointment, and how could she live with herself then?  
  
She buried her face in the bedclothes and began to sob.  
  
Faramir came quietly into the house, hoping to disturb no one at this late hour. He was used to late hours at this time of year, when trade was high in Gondor, and there were thousands of documents to sign. Before he had been Steward, his father would often recruit him and his brother to help; it had been a warm and comforting ritual to him, even if his father had seen it as pure business and a blasted bother.  
  
But this was his first year doing it on his own, and he did not have anyone to ask for aid. He had asked Eowyn, but she seemed to shy from it, saying that though she would greatly desire to help, there were other businesses that required her attention. His keen glance had seen that there was more to it than this, but he saw nothing untoward in her eyes, and so had not pressed the matter.  
  
He managed to only disturb his valet and his door-guard, but they merely bowed, and then carried out their duties. The house was silent, and he hoped Eowyn had not waited up for him, for tomorrow's calendar was packed, and he wanted her at least to get a good night's sleep.  
  
But, as he climbed the stairs, he saw a light coming from their chamber. Coming quietly in, he saw that she was not asleep, and then he beheld her tears. Rushing forward, he took her gently into his arms, saying: "My love, whatever can be the matter?"  
  
For a moment she merely cried into his chest, but then she pulled away from his embrace, and choked: "No, I cannot bear it."  
  
Seeing grave distress in her condition, he saw that she had looked over to the desk as she had spoken, and saw an opened letter there. Going over, he saw that it was from Imrahil, who had taken a liking to his new daughter-in-law, and asked:  
  
"Oh, my love, can it be ill news? Please, tell me! I cannot bear to see you in such distress!"  
  
"How should I know?" she burst out through her tears, and sunk to the floor next to the bed again, tears flowing freely but silently.  
  
Confused and very worried, Faramir knelt beside her and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. She did not shy away this time, so he wrapped his arms around her comfortingly, letting her head rest upon his shoulder, knowing that whatever was the matter would come out in due time.  
  
"My love?" he tried again. "Is there not anything I can do for you?"  
  
"No," she whispered. She did not have the strength to ask him to leave her alone, though her face burned with shame.  
  
"Are you sure that you have not received ill news?"  
  
"I don't know!" she said wildly, once again breaking from his grasp. "Can you not see?"  
  
"No," he admitted. "Will you not tell me, so that I may understand?  
  
She looked once again towards the desk, and then she said quietly, voice breaking with sobs: "I-I cannot."  
  
Another sob broke forth, and then she took a deep breath and turned to face him. "I cannot, Faramir, even if I wished to! I cannot understand it."  
  
"If it is in Sindarin, my love, you need only to bring it to me, and I will translate it for you," said Faramir reassuringly, though he was not at all sure if this was what she meant.  
  
It was not. "No, Faramir, it is not that! Faramir, I cannot—I cannot read!"  
  
She turned away from him again, her shame overcoming her again, and she rose and went to the window where the breeze might cool her flaming cheeks.  
  
Faramir did not know whether to be relieved or upset at her for worrying him so much over so little a matter.  
  
"I cannot read, Faramir. I know am not fit to be the wife of a statesman, and I was selfish not to tell you before. I am sorry."  
  
Faramir quickly rose and came to her side. "My love, how long has this been a torment to you?"  
  
"Only since I got the letter. I never thought of it before," she said quietly.  
  
Smiling gently at his beloved wife, though she could not see it, he said: "I do not care."  
  
"What?" she asked, turning to look at his face. She could see it smiling in the moonlight, but whether it was pity or mockery or something else entirely, she could not discern.  
  
"I do not care, beloved, if you cannot read."  
  
"You do not?" She was surprised by this turn of events, and a little shocked.  
  
"No," he said, and his smile grew. "I would not even care if you could not ride a horse, Eowyn. Did you think that my love was dependent on such a petty matter?"  
  
Her slightly indignant look at his assessment of her equine skills made him laugh and take her gently into his arms, kissing the tears from her cheek. "I am not, of course, saying that you cannot, my love, merely using it as an example."  
  
"I thought you would be disappointed in me," she said quietly. "And I did not want your pity."  
  
"I do not offer you my pity," he said. "Would _you_ be disappointed in _me_ if I told you that I could not read?"  
  
"Can you not?"  
  
"That is not what I asked."  
  
"No, of course not. Why should I be?"  
  
"Then how could you think that I would be so?"  
  
"I don't know," she answered truthfully. "I suppose I am just very foolish." Then she looked up at him and smiled a little. "You really do not care?"  
  
"I really do not."  
  
"But others will," she said, face darkening again. "And I could not face them if they knew, and I cannot hide it forever."  
  
"Then I will teach you," said Faramir simply. "Unless you would mind that very much."  
  
She laughed. "Of course not. Would you do that?"  
  
"My love," he sighed, "must I repeat everything I say before you will believe it?"  
  
"Yes," she said with a slighly wicked grin that lost but little of its power because of the tearstained cheeks.  
  
He laughed. "Very well then. I love you. I love you. I love you. And I do not care what you can or cannot do, because no matter what, I will always love you—and I repeat that three times."  
  
"That is cheating," she protested, "but I believe you anyways, though I cannot help it. I love you too much, Faramir. Though," she added, " to be perfectly honest, I am not sure if I could love you if you could not ride a horse. But, as you knew that I was a true Rohirrim when you married me, you cannot blame me now."  
  
"No, I cannot," he said softly. "Nor would I want to."  
  
"I was teasing you!" she said.  
  
"What I said still holds true," he said.  
  
She sighed, and rested her head contentedly on his chest. "How did I ever find such a man as you?"  
  
"I believe," came his deep droll voice from somewhere above her hair, "that you wanted a window looking east."  
  
She could not help but laugh, and with that laugh went the last of her tears. Love had won again.  
  
The End

* * *

_Author's Notes: Yes, Eowyn was way over-reacting—we women do that occasionally. ;-)_  
  
This might be slightly AU, as I am not sure if the Rohirrim were taught how to read or not. How I imagine it, since Tolkien said they wrote no books, only the highest nobles/Royal House were taught how to read and write the Common Speech so that they might negotiate with Gondor. (I notice that nothing written is mentioned around the Rohirrim in LOTR.) I see that as including Theoden, Theodred, and Eomer, but not Eowyn.


End file.
